


Track #3: Celebration Day

by KittyAug, KittyAugust (KittyAug)



Series: SPN Prompts & Challenges [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awards Presentation, Bad Boy Dean, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nerd Castiel, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "It's honors night for their senior class and Cas sees Dean. He makes a rude comment towards Dean asking him why he's here before Dean's name is called for recognition- shocking Cas and everyone else. Closet nerd!Dean I guess"</p><p>This took a turn for the smutty - oops! Hope the prompter still likes it.</p><hr/><p>Oh no... no, no, no. Cas is not sneaking off to some broom closet just so Dean Winchester can get his end away - not in the middle of Honors Night (for God’s sake). Cas might be easy, and attention starved, and horribly, painfully, and secretly in love - but even Cas isn’t that accommodating. Not tonight.</p><p>Spoiler Alert: He does and he is. But it’s worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Track #3: Celebration Day

**Author's Note:**

> Usual 'this is a high school setting but not technically or specifically underage' warning. Stay safe darlings. Otherwise enjoy!
> 
>  _Celebration Day_ is a Led Zep song, it is track number 3 on the album Led Zeppelin III.

Castiel shifts in his hard plastic seat and fidgets with his tie. His dad didn’t make it, of course, and he kind of wants to be surprised, or at least disappointed. But he’s actually just relieved. It’s easier this way - if you don’t expect anything then it doesn’t hurt. It’s more like a missing tooth - irritating, and sometimes Cas can’t help prodding at the tangible lack, it twinges now and then, but ultimately you get used to it. He sighs and Anna bumps his shoulder in what he assumes is a comforting gesture.

“Relax,” she says. She gives him a soft knowing look that’s not quite disappointment but close enough that it twists at him anyway.

Some days he wonders how they’re even related, let alone twins. She’s a vision of confidence in a bright blue summer dress who doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her. Cas feels like his skin is permanently too tight and his tie is trying to strangle him. Not to mention Anna actually has friends. If Anna wins any awards tonight people will cheer and congratulate her. She’s a shoo-in for at least one of the art prizes and he’s proud, he really is. Yet... when Cas inevitably takes more than one prize for his grades all he’s going to get is laughed at, more mockery and hallway torture for the last few bitter months of high-school. It doesn’t seem fair that one Novak just fits in, just slid into school life like it’s nothing and then the other one- well the other one is Cas.

It is hard not to resent her sometimes with the easy human way she lives. It is like she doesn’t even feel the inexorable pull of duty and expectation the way he does. Like their father’s approval doesn’t even matter to her anymore. She puts living before duty, but Cas just can’t _do_ that. Castiel has always been dutiful. Without duty what is he? Castiel is a dutiful son to an absent father, a dutiful student to bored teachers, a dutiful brother to an impetuous sister, and a dutiful… well, a dutiful whatever it is he is to Dean Winchester. He knows his diligence and devotion in any of those areas has seldom been rewarded. Yet without it he wouldn’t know what to do or who to be. So he clings to it.

God, he’s being pathetic. He just wishes this awful event would hurry up and start so he can stop sitting around awkwardly waiting. He hates this kind of pageantry. He hates being the centre of attention. He hates the torment and teasing that comes after, just for being good at things. And he hates the fact that all this nonsense _matters_ if he wants to get into a top tier college.

“Oh.” Anna’s surprised tone distracts him from his morose slumping and he looks at her. But she isn’t looking at Cas, she’s smiling false bright then biting her lip and looking up at- “Dean!”

Cas turns his attention to the boy in the aisle next to his seat and he feels his stomach drop and his eyes go wide in fear. Dean Winchester in the flesh. Close enough to touch and grinning like sin at Castiel’s sister, and standing right next to him. Just when Cas was about to conclude the evening couldn’t get any worse - it had to go and prove him wrong.

His blood runs cold but he can feel a hot tension pressure, as his treacherous dick takes an interest anyway. Damn it, it’s like Dean has him hardwired for this or something. Just the smell of old leather and Old Spice gets him going. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he has it bad.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Cas hisses, ignoring Anna’s presence and her indignant snort of surprise.

“Same thing as you?” Dean says, smug and self-assured, and so damn beautiful it hurts.

Oh no... no, no, _no_. Cas is not sneaking off to some broom closet just so Dean Winchester can get his end away, not in the middle of Honors Night for God’s sake. Cas might be easy, and attention starved, and horribly, painfully, and secretly in love - but even Cas isn’t _that_ accommodating. Not tonight.

“I highly doubt that,” Cas says as coldly as he can with Anna staring at him like he’s lost his marbles.

There’s a moment where their eyes meet and Dean frowns slightly. Like Cas has missed something obvious or said something that doesn’t quite make sense. Like he’s trying to check if Cas is joking, if it’s dry humor or actual oblivious naivety. Cas doesn’t see that look as often as he used to - Dean knows him better these days and can usually tell the difference. But the look passes so quick Cas isn’t sure he didn’t imagine it.

“You wanna sit with us Dean?” Anna asks, trying to make up for Castiel’s rudeness. Cas hates the simper in her voice. The way she falls into Dean’s thrall of flirtation just like everyone other girl at this stupid school. And Cas, of course. He knows she probably wouldn’t do it if she knew how Cas felt. She certainly wouldn’t do it if she knew even half the things that Castiel and Dean had been doing in the dark for the past two months. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I sure would,” Dean’s voice is liquid sugar and he smiles like the invitation is the best thing he’s heard all night. And it probably is. A chance to blatantly flirt with Anna and make Cas incredibly uncomfortable all evening, fantastic. This is probably Dean’s idea of a hobby. Cas isn’t even sure how or why Dean got in here. Only prize nominees and their guests are invited, and while Cas knows Sam is smart Freshman prizes aren’t for another week. Sports prizes are tomorrow night and far more popular. God he hopes Dean didn’t bully some kid out of a guest pass just for this stupid prank.

“Anna, can you excuse us a moment?” Cas says firmly and stands up as he speaks.

“Sure?” she says even though she doesn’t sound sure.

Dean lets Cas hustle him out of the auditorium and into the wings. Doesn’t even shrug off Castiel’s firm grasp on his elbow. Cas is surprised by that, both his own boldness in his moment of frustration and Dean allowing them to touch at all in public. Cas huffs in frustration to find the backstage area full of people too and uses his swipe card to drag Dean into the props’ room instead, for some semblance of privacy.

Unfortunately Cas hasn’t thought this all the way through. The moment the door closes Dean spins them and pins Cas to the wall. Forces his thigh between Cas's legs and presses in too hot and too close and too damn good.

“See, _this_ is why you’re neck-and-neck for valedictorian, baby.” Dean rocks up into him. “You’re so smart. Brilliant, even. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you during this thing...” Dean starts _kissing_ his neck and Cas melts a bit despite himself. “Not without just a taste to keep me sane. You’re a frigging genius, Cas.”

Dean’s hand are hot on his waist, he can feel it through the thin cotton of his summer weight shirt. Can feel the almost desperate way Dean’s fingers dig into him and hold him close. Cas can almost convince himself that Dean wants him close, wants to hold on to him. Especially when Dean nuzzles into Cas's neck like that. Worse, when he says things like that. It’s driving Cas a little crazy. Being this close but still so far from everything he’s wanted since he first laid eyes on Dean.

“Dean this isn’t-”

“Course it is Cas.” Dean’s voice is seductive and his eyes heated on Cas's face. “You’re nervous, yeah? Let me help. Let me make it good, baby?”

Dean moves in to kiss him and takes the last of his breath away. Cas can’t help but think of the story of Eden, and the Serpent in the Garden. He wonders if Eve felt this same exquisite tension caught between right and wrong. Wonders if the apple tasted as sweet as the way Dean kisses him. Cas opens to it, of course he does. He might hate himself for it tomorrow but right now it’s too hot and Dean’s tongue is silky good. He kisses back with unrepentant and eager fury, he can’t voice his frustration but maybe he can communicate it in other ways. All his aggression gets him is Dean moaning into it and pressing back even harder. Rolling with the kiss so their hips and erections rub together.

“Cas?” Dean pulls back a moment. His face is flushed, lips spit slick, and eyes almost glassy but he’s watching Cas's face with that burning intensity that makes Cas think the boy can see his soul. Dean’s hands rub aimless circles into Cas's hips and waist while he watched him. So close to real affection that Cas can’t think about it too much.

Cas wants to say no, mostly. Kind of. They’re practically in public, Cas isn’t the only one with a handy keycard for this door. The event will start any minute. But he’s only just eighteen and _goddamn_ that feels amazing. Dean has grabbed Cas's dick through his trousers, cups the solid bulge of it and strokes, just fucking right.

“Yes,” Cas whispers. “Yes, hurry up.”

That’s all the permission Dean needs. He undoes Cas's belt and slacks with a now practiced ease and falls to his knees so quick Cas is sure people in the wings must have heard it. But still not as loud as Cas's thumping pulse. Dean smirks up at him, and that’s all Serpent. Temptation incarnate and penitent before him. Cas moans and leans back against the wall, Dean hasn’t even got his mouth on Cas yet and Cas is already a whimpering mess. Fuck.

Dean doesn’t waste any time. He makes a frustrated noise as he brushes past the cotton of Cas underwear. But then he makes the most decadent sound Cas has ever heard when he gets his lips on Cas's cock. He sucks slow but determined at first, wraps his tongue around the sensitive head. Like heated satin, and liquid bliss on the edge of ecstasy already. It borders on too intense, too good and too much. But Cas relaxes into it. Wants to sob for more but doesn’t want this first slow tease to ever stop. Dean wraps one arm around Cas's hips and grips him tight while the other hand roves free up Cas's thigh, fondles his balls, then finally takes a firm grip on his shaft. Moves his hand and his head in time with Castiel’s desperate heart. It feels like redemption.

Cas risks a glance down and Dean looks back, with a smirk in his eyes and his lips stretched decadent and debauched around Cas. It might be the most erotic thing Cas has ever encountered. His breath leaves him in one punched out gasp. Dean takes cock like communion. And that thought is so dirty it’s good, the heat of it is getting insistent now, a pressure inside him that begs for release. It’s like Dean can read it though, in his eyes or in his body. He pulls back. All the way off, and Cas whimpers because he hates begging but he doesn’t want this to stop. And the air is cold on his spit slick cock. And he wants Dean in any and every way he can have him. But a whimper is the best he can manage.

Dean is scanning his face. Looking for something so Cas looks back. Refuses to back down from the challenge, whatever it is. Dean shrugs out of his leather jacket and lets it drop to the floor without taking his eyes off Cas.

“Turn around,” Dean growls. And it is a growl, this dirty, rough edge thing that crawls up Cas’s spine like sensual fire. He spins so fast his elbow scratches on the wall and Dean’s chuckle behind him gets right into the marrow of his bones and throbs there, a desire so deep it’s a living thing…

He’s expecting it but Cas still has to bite into his own arm when Dean slides his slick wet tongue along the cleft of his ass. Catches the tip on Cas’s rim and tugs ever so gently before pushing in like it belongs there. The first time Dean had done this to him, in the old bike sheds behind the school, it had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t been able to get over how wrong it was. His body, his upbringing, his very soul had tried to rebel against the abjection of it. Dean had pinned him, kept telling him how good it was going to be, how good he was going to be. And he’d come just like that, with Dean’s tongue up his ass, Dean’s hand on his cock, Dean’s skin on his skin. It had felt like sin and sacrifice and sacrament all in one. This time his thighs still quivver as Dean presses his cheeks open and slides his tongue across firm, sensitive muscle. This time it is anticipation not fear that shivers through him. God, the anticipation.

Because even in a hurry, Dean knows how to tease. Knows how to draw it out and draw Cas in. Knows how to wind him up and work him over. Knows how to find every curve, and every button, and every lit up nerve ending and rub, and press, and touch just fucking right. Cas tries not to squirm, tries not to beg, tries to keep some semblance of dignity in the face of his own rampant desire. He fails, but he tries.

Dean works his way into Cas’s body and works Cas into a shaking, writing, whimper mess anyway. And Cas can tell Dean enjoys every minute of it. He loves having this power over Cas, over his body, over his mind and his better judgment too. No matter how much he fights it Cas can’t help giving in to it either. Giving in to the hot pulses of pleasure, giving in to the heat under his skin and the fire in his blood, giving in to the push and pull of it all, giving in to Dean.

Cas doesn’t think he can take much more. He’s caught. Wrapped up in his body, locked in warm frantic flesh, he aches with wanting more but burns with too much already. Walks a tightrope of nothing and everything and can’t quite hold on. Dean reaches one arm around and finally takes Cas’s throbbing, blood heavy cock in his hand. Dean’s skin is rough, the texture a distraction of sweet contrast against the velvet soft skin of his cock. Dean is slow and rough in his movements too - bringing Cas _near_ the edge but not quite over it.

“Dean,” Cas says, voice gravel deep even to his own ears. Dean does that _thing_ where he swirls his tongue and withdraws it. Turning Cas’s words into a breathless, wanton cry instead.

“You want more Cas?” Dean asks, husky and seductive in a way Cas can never resist.

“Yes.” It’s more gasped than spoken when Dean licks into him again as Cas tries to speak.

Dean hadn’t had anything on him the first few times. The first few times had been mere fumbling in the dark anyway, but he’d started to come prepared once his little ambushes became a semi-regular occurrence. Cas was not about to start complaining. Not about that anyway. Not when Dean stops roughly stroking him for a few moments then returns his hand slick and cold but so sweet. That slip and slide feeling is like salvation to a sinner. Cas thrusts into it while Dean continues to lick him out (and that might only apply to girls but he doesn’t care because that’s what it feels like - like Dean is licking away his wounds, licking him clean, licking him open and exposed and ready for anything).

The pleasure burning through him becomes a blaze. Like a holy fire running through his veins and leaving nothing but ecstasy in its wake. And it’s too much. It breaks over him and through him, he falls apart. He comes into Dean’s fist, with Dean’s name on his lips. He shudders through it, Dean continues to lap at him like a sensual torture to Cas’s now open nerves. He runs a soothing hand up Cas’s thigh but still doesn't _stop_ until Cas grunts, it’s all he can manage just then, and batts at his face ineffectually.

Dean gets the message finally and pulls away. He plants a kiss on Cas’s left butt cheek as he goes. A mockery of the intimacy of his earlier acts. He lets Cas turn around and lean heavily against the wall. Breath slowly coming back to him along with the chill of reality. Dean is crouching at Cas’s feet, wiping spit from his chin and grinning up at Cas like he just won a fucking prize. Cas supposes if there was a class in that then Dean would certainly be top of the class.

Cas knows he’s meant to reciprocate. That’s what Dean gets out of this whole sordid thing after all. If he doesn’t get anything out of it he’ll probably stop and that would be worse than having to deal with stunts like tonight. Much worse. Cas really wants to actually, can feel himself start to salivate at the thought. But he just needs to catch his breath, bask in his satiation for a while. Maybe remember why he was furious about this idea in the first place. Cas hands Dean his handkerchief while he thinks - because his nannies raised him a gentleman, thank you very much.

“Thanks,” Dean smirks up at him. Still hasn’t even bothered to get off the floor, watches Cas with a complicated expression. It’s curious and open and a bit fuck drunk. Cas doesn’t really know what to make of it. He looks away after just a little too long and starts to clean himself up. Cas fixes his shirt and trousers, trying to articulate his questions. How to ask what this is without risking losing it all.

“Dean why do-”

Cas is cut off by the muffled sound of the Principal over the loudspeaker, asking students to take their seats. Shit.

“C’mon Sam’s out there and he’ll kill me if we miss this. You can return the favor after,” Dean leers back up at Cas and it makes Cas want to scream, and probably come again. Fuck. Dean offers Cas his hand but manages to make it seem like it’s a favor. Like it is Cas that needs help getting up or something. Cas rolls his eyes but helps the other boy up off the floor anyway - gentleman, remember?

“You brought Sam?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean frowns at Cas, gives him the ‘what did you miss’ look again. “Not like either of our dads are gonna make it to something like this, right?”

Cas feels like he’s been slapped by that and he wants to tell Dean he doesn’t need his charity. Yet it’s said with such soft intimacy that Cas can’t quite bring himself to reject it outright. Dean so seldom talks about his father at all - it seems churlish to reject the comparison. And they’re standing so close. Breath on breath close. Cas kisses Dean without really thinking about it. Dean makes a squeak of surprise that’s totally worth it. Cas doesn’t usually make the first move at all and he’s never let Dean kiss him after _that_. But it feels like the right thing to do. He can taste himself on Dean’s tongue, musky, salty and a little too sweet. Just a little bit too good.

Cas pulls away harder than he meant to and pushes Dean off him. Dean looks glazed and confused. Captured in Cas’s eyes somehow. Dean shakes himself, shakes off whatever it was that stopped him in the first place.

“Right, lets do this?” Dean asks Cas, gives him the kind of smile Cas would call shy if it wasn’t for the fact that Dean Winchester does not do shy at all. And no one could be shy after what they just did. Well, except Cas, but Cas is always shy, that’s just expected.

Cas nods and leaves the room without another word. It’s not like he has time to confront Dean about following him now. He wants to call Dean a stalker but he supposes it’s not technically stalking if it keeps ending in enthusiastically consensual sex. God, Cas needs to learn how to say no to this guy. Even being able to want to say no would be a pretty good start.

They just barely make it back to their seats by last call.

Anna gives them both a curious look but doesn’t say anything now that the speeches have started. Sam had apparently guessed where his brother planned to sit because he is settled in on the other side of Anna although he seems more interested in talking to a sophomore girl, Cas thinks her name is Ruby. She might be Lilith’s little sister but Cas can’t be sure - it isn’t the sort of information he keeps to hand. She’s also at least as interested in Anna as she is in Sam as far as Cas can tell. He thinks Dean spots the same thing because his eyes narrow for a moment when he sees the dark haired girl but he lets it slide.

Dean takes the seat next to Anna and throws his arms over the backs of the chairs on either side. Meaning he’ll have an arm around each Novak twin. Cas is willing to bet that suits Dean down to the damn ground. He wants to complain but he also wants his hard won aisle seat so he just settles down and tries not to think about where those hands have just been.

Anna does win two prizes in Arts. Cas hugs her when she returns to her seat. Cas takes top of class for AP and one of the essay prizes in English. No one’s surprised, just a smattering of applause. There are a few jeering cat calls when he goes up for his third prize, this time in French. A fourth is actually reasonably minor, a project prize in History that only gets read from a list. He tries not to worry what the fifth one is going to be like. He’ll get top of year in Latin without a doubt.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” Dean says and goes so far as to squeeze Cas’s knee when he gets up for that one. Which is endearing and also shocking enough that it does take his mind off his nerves. That is until he’s at the foot of the stairs and he sees the way Alistair is looking at him. He refuses to rise to the bait though and returns to his seat with false confidence.

Cas feels Dean’s breath on his neck when he leans in and says, “You would think Al would remember not to push you. I reckon his nose is still crooked from the last time.”

Cas laughs at the reminder that he once punched Alistair in the face in front of the whole school. Of course he’d always been better at defending others than himself.

At least that was the end of both the Arts, and the Humanities and Languages sections for the evening. He would be able to get through Maths and Sciences with minimal attention. Then it was just the major prizes and honors. After which he could get the hell out of here and maybe find somewhere to ‘return the favor’ he owes Dean. Unless Dean decides that he doesn’t want to screw around with the school’s biggest nerd and possible valedictorian in the intervening hour. That always feels like a valid risk with Dean. Like it’s all a bit too good to be true despite the fact Cas knows he’s nothing other than a dirty secret.

He glances over and notices that Dean is biting his lip and tapping his fingers on his leg. As if he’s nervous about something. Mr Singer, the Head of Sciences has taken the podium and is droning on about the necessity of STEM in building the future or some equally dull platitudes that people say at these things. Cas frowns. He wants to reach out, offer some small comfort but he still isn’t sure Dean would accept it. He’s still far too aware of the way Dean always seems to dodge him in the halls before backing him up against the nearest hard surface when they’re alone. It is yet another confusing behavior that Cas may never understand.

Dean’s friend Ash takes top of year in Chemistry and Cas is captivated by the bright smile on Dean’s face, the way he hollers and claps, pure enthusiasm. He’d clapped that way for Cas too of course.

Cas still doesn’t really understand what is going on between them. Even the first time Dean kissed him had been confusing. Cas had caught Dean smoking on school property, out behind the laboratories. Cas liked Dean, always had, and he’d been apologetic about having to write him up for it. But Castiel was a prefect and that was part of his duties - so he didn’t really have a choice. Dean has snaked up into his personal space and trapped him. Caught between Dean’s body heat and the wall. Cas had flinched, shifted his weight and waited to get attacked. Cas abhorred violence but he could defend himself if he had to.

Dean had said something, maybe yet another reference Cas didn’t understand, something about being persuasive. And then he’d kissed Cas without even waiting for him to reply. And Cas had kissed back because it was polite, and because kissing Dean was amazing. And maybe a tiny bit because it was only the third time anyone had wanted to kiss him at all. If Cas hadn’t had hopeless thing for bad boys before he would have developed one in that moment. Dean had tasted like smoke and menthol and skin. Cas had clung to him, kissed him like salvation. Cas had received his first ever blow job right then and there. He hadn’t been sure he hadn’t imagined it all until the second time. And it had all spiraled out of control from that point onward really. One long and glorious fall from grace. In a growing trajectory of firsts and bests and worsts. Stolen moment after stolen moment in corners, and doorways, and that ridiculous car, and many other both literal and metaphorical closets. Never quite sure when it would run but but never quite able to say no either.

Cas is startled out of his revery when Dean grips his shoulder hard enough that it must be obviously more than casual. Dean never did get that write up, come to think of it.

“Shit, sorry,” Dean mumbles when he sees the incredulous look Cas is giving the slightly proprietary appendage. Cas just blinks at him, still confused. Dean’s eyes are already back on the stage and his lip distractingly between his teeth again.

“For the award of top of year in Maths and Physics, goes to…” Singer looks up and smiles right at their little cluster. “Dean Winchester.”

“Son of bitch,” Dean says, not quite under his breath.

“Oh like you’re surprised,” Sam snarks from Anna’s other side.

“I wasn’t expecting top of _year_ , man. I mean sure top of class in physics, but… shit.” Dean gets to his feet, gives Cas an unreadable little smile then he’s on his way up to the stage.

Cas just stares. He had no idea Dean even went to class. Let alone did well in any of them. He feels himself blush, not the heat of arousal from earlier but something a lot closer to shame. Sam has dragged his eyes off Ruby long enough to give Cas a very considering look but he doesn't say anything and Cas is once more thankful for small mercies. Anna is giving Dean a particularly glowing look when he gets back though and it’s enough to make Cas’s stomach twist even tighter.

Luckily for the sake of Cas’s lunch keeping its current location Dean makes Cas scooch over and give up his coveted aisle seat for the rest of the STEM awards. Which turns out to make sense when Dean takes home three more prizes. It isn’t until Dean is coming back down from the stage with the top of class for mechanics and trades, that Cas finally realises who he’s up against for the speakers’ honors.

“People are gonna _hate_ us,” Dean says as he retakes his seat and tries to balance yet another framed award against the chairs in front of them. But the way he says it he doesn’t seem displeased by the notion, and the grin he turns on Cas is nothing but sunshine. Okay, sunshine and mischief, but no trace of horror certainly. Cas just nods mutely, not yet trusting his voice. Then Dean puts his arm back around Cas’s shoulders, not on his chair, on his shoulders and leans in to kiss him on the cheek.

It’s nothing really, a brush of affection and a wild grin. When Cas stares back at him with wide eyed amazement though Dean’s grin falters.

“Um, that was okay, right?” Dean whispers, so low it’s barely audible.

Cas nods again. Doesn’t really know what else to do with all this new information. Dean just kissed him. In public. He can feel the way Anna is looking at him on his other side and he knows he’ll have some explaining to do. But right now that doesn’t really matter even a tiny bit.

Principal Harvelle has taken the podium again. Cas only half pays attention as she talks about the breadth of achievement on show tonight. He’s lost in the tingling trace of a kiss on his cheek. He’s still in shock when she starts reading out the top ten GPA honours. The whole top ten are read out first before the speakers’ honors are announced from that pool. The highest GPAs in the entire senior class. Ash isn’t on it, but another of Dean’s friends, one Charlie Bradbury is the first name read out. Cas knows he’ll be on that list, so he’s not surprised in the least when his name is read out at 9th in order.

He’s not even really surprised at this point when Dean’s name is read out next. Dean is though, he swears under his breath again and gives Cas another puppy dog grin. Cas thinks his heart might fly out of his chest if Dean keeps doing that.

“It is with great personal pride, that I can announce your salutatorian for the class of 2016 will be: Dean Winchester.”

Dean freezes, still looking at Cas.

“Did she just…”

“Yes, Dean she did.” And Cas can’t quite believe it himself but his voice sounds firm and sure. He doesn’t know where that came from but he’s grateful for it.

Dean starts to stand, obviously flustered.

“You’ll help me with all the Elle Woods speech stuff, and shit, right?” Dean asks with a quiet kind of frantic tone that makes Cas want to save him from anything and everything.

“I don’t understand-”

“That reference, yeah I know.” Dean cuts him off but he’s smiling and doesn’t seem annoyed. Maybe even slightly, fond? He leans in close so his next words are for Cas’s ears only, “I don’t care how hot you look, next time I take you out we’re actually gonna _watch_ a damn movie and catch you up on some pop-culture, got it?”

Harvelle clears her throat and Dean makes a face.

“See you up there,” Dean says with a grimace and a wink before he rushes back to the stage.

“Maybe,” Cas calls after him, not sure what statement he’s answering, but he can’t help grinning.

Harvelle really does look proud when she gives Dean his award and information packet. Dean takes a seat on the stage after that. Cas actually crosses himself while they’re they’re announcing the final award. And he’s honestly not sure if it’s because he wants the title (he hates giving speeches) or just because he misses the heat of Dean’s flesh on the seat next to him. Dean looks flustered and out of place and Cas just wants to make it all better.

“And your valedictorian for the class of 2016 will be: Castiel James Novak.”

Cas fumbles through shaking hands with Harvelle. Then he’s shooed off to take a seat on the stage next to Dean for the last of the formalities.

“Sorry,” Cas says as quiet as he can once they’re seated. Hopes no one can lip read.

“Nah, I didn’t even think I had the credit points for this, man. It’s all good.” Dean leans in even closer arm slinking across the back of Cas’s seat yet again. “Anyway, this way I get to tell everyone I’m dating the valedictorian, sounds better that way. Right?”

Cas stares at him for a full four seconds. There is just enough hesitation in Dean’s face that he’s almost certain this isn’t some very complex prank.

“Okay,” Cas says. He doesn’t think he could form a more complex sentence even if he knew what to say. Singer shushes them then anyway, so they both return to watching Harvelle wrap up the proceedings.

The rest of the top ten are dragged up on stage. Harvelle hustles both Cas and Dean back up for the formal presentation to the class, and a few photos. Of course, Dean being Dean, gets bored.

“Congratulations, angel,” Dean says soft into his ear. Cas turns slightly to respond and finds Dean right in his face and biting his lip, looking like every sin Cas has ever wanted to commit. It’s instinct to kiss back when Dean leans in that close. It’s not even a very heated kiss, not for them, closed mouthed and chaste as the Virgin Mary.

The whole auditorium goes wild. As far as they’re concerned it’s probably the most exciting thing that’s happened all night so Cas can’t blame them.

“Idjits,” Singer scolds. But he takes the photo anyway.

In the end, Cas does get to return the favor (many times), he also learns who Elle Woods is, and he even gets his own back on Graduation night. The much discussed ‘kissing nerds’ photo makes it into the yearbook, despite the shocked faces on all but one of the other honorees. Charlie Bradbury wasn’t surprised at all.

Cas never did learn to _want_ to say no to Dean though. He’ll just have to keep working on it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr - [kittyaugust.tumblr.com](http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/) \- I take prompts (but maybe warn me if you don't want smut!) and I'm kinda nice so feel free to come on over and say hi or something.
> 
> FYI: Comments and kudos make my day, even a few words and knowing you liked it means the world to most fic writers. So, if you can please let me know what you think <3


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